Before the Journey
by NatureGirl52180
Summary: A series of short stories centering around the life and love of Wyatt and Adora Cain.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: As always, I do not own these characters. Don't sue me.

Poets proclaim that when two people who were destined for each other finally meet, their souls reunite. They complete each other. Stars realign, time stops, women swoon, and birds sing. People have reported getting fever, chills, dizziness, and butterflies.

Wyatt Cain would later describe it as getting the business end of a nasty looking shotgun and hearing foulest words imaginable from the most beautiful lips he had ever seen.

"You have got some nerve!" She narrowed her eyes dangerously. "In broad daylight?"

"Miss," he began slowly, hands raised. "I think there's a misunderstanding here."

"Is there? Then I'm to assume you aren't here to steal more of my father's horses?"

"There was no one at the house." He considered making a play for the gun. If he could knock the barrel away he was probably fast enough to get it from her. She must have read his mind, because she took a step back and cocked the hammer. "Don't do something stupid."

"All right, look." He was only two weeks into this job. So much for a post in the Eastern Territories for a nice, quiet life. "I'm gonna reach over, and show you my badge, okay?"

An eyebrow quirk was the only change in her expression and he assumed she wasn't going to blast him back to Central City. Carefully, he moved his left hand to the lapel of his jacket to reveal the small, tin star pinned to his chest.

She inhaled through her nose and let out a disgusted noise, but didn't put the gun down.

"Miss, I swear, I'm--"

"You must not have the brains the gods gave a goose." The wisp of girl said as she lowered the weapon, easing the hammer back as she did.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Tell me, sir, is it typically your policy to snoop around the barns of people that have just had horses stolen? What are you thinking?"

Before he could answer, a voice called "Adora!" from the edge of the woods. An older gentleman dressed in brown boots and trousers was limping towards them as fast as he could manage, jamming a wooden walking stick into the ground in his haste. "Oh, Girl not again."

Adora seemed to ignore the admonishment in the man's voice. "I wouldn't hold out too much hope for those horses, Dad. It seems the Tin Men, have sent us Mr.--" she gestured to Cain with her gun-free hand.

"Cain." He answered stupidly.

"Cain, who has the mental capacity of a stump." She hefted the rifle against her hip and started away, leaving a dumbstruck Cain and an old man shaking his head, in her wake.

"You'll have to forgive my daughter, Mr. Cain." The old man was saying as they watched her go. "One of the four horses taken was her favorite. She's pretty protective of them." He laughed. "And me, for that matter. The name is George Reed. Please, come up to the house."

Now that she wasn't holding a gun on him, Cain couldn't help but notice that Adora was quite lovely. Those dark blue eyes were not something he was going to forget in a hurry. She was tall and slender, her long legs quite obvious because of the men's trousers she wore. Curly, honey-blonde hair streamed out behind her as she moved from where she had set the gun down on the porch back across to the corral. It was, however, quite obvious that there was nothing but trouble there as she gave him a dirty look before turning away and back to her chores.

He waited for Reed to ascend the steps of the lovely cabin before following him inside. "I thank you for coming so quickly. Usually, takes the barracks a little while to get out here."

Wonder why, with greetings like the one he had just received. But Adora was just one of the reasons. George Reed had garnered a reputation himself. Cain's colleagues described the man as a warlock, spending half of his time in the woods and the other half concocting strange tonics that he would try to pawn off on some poor soul in the nearby town of Grafton.

"It's my pleasure, sir." He removed his hat as he entered the home.

Reed was pulling a pot of coffee off of the fire. He laughed. "No, it's not."

"Sir?"

"You're obviously new to the barracks, Mr. Cain." He had now retrieved cups from the sideboard and placed them on the small wooden table. "You seem more honorable then some. Can you honestly stand there and tell me that you were not simply saddled with the task of coming all the way out here to talk to Crazy Old Reed?"

He had hit the nail square. Captain Higgins had a hard time controlling his mirth when he handed Cain the assignment. "No, I can't honestly say that, sir."

"Oh, I hear people talk." Reed had poured the coffee and motioned to a chair, inviting Cain to sit. "Crazy old coot. Making his strange concoctions. Talking to the animals, arguing for better treatment of our Viewer neighbors."

"Crazy daughter." Cain hadn't meant to say it. It had just slipped out. Reed sputtered a bit in his coffee. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean--"

"It's perfectly understandable, given the circumstances." The old man was smiling. "But, please, don't judge Adora too harshly. She has a lot on her shoulders, what with an old crippled father and trying to provide for both of us."

Cain nodded. "I understand. But she's going to kill someone, running around here with a gun the way she does."

"Wait here a minute, son." Reed stood and limped through the front door. He was back in a few seconds, the gun in his hand. With a click, the barrel locked down to reveal the chamber.

"It's empty."

"Always is." Reed snicked the chamber closed and leaned the gun against the wall, stock on the floor. "Don't get me wrong. My daughter's a decent shot. But she'd never forgive herself if she hurt someone."

The lawman shook his head. "She could get herself killed, then. It's a dangerous trick to pull on the wrong person."

Reed laughed again. "You've been on the receiving end of it, Mr. Cain. Would you cross her?"

He smiled. The man had a point.

About a half an hour later, Cain emerged from the house with descriptions of the stolen horses and Reed beside him. In the corral, a saddled leopard-spotted horse was loping in circles. Adora was at its center and at her cue, the animal turned to face her, ears pricked as she spoke softly to it.

"A lot of spunk in that one." Reed said with a wistful smile. "Like her mother."

"Spunk. Is that what you call it?" Cain started down the stairs as Reed laughed. "I should be back in a few days, Mr. Reed."

"We'll keep an eye out for you." The old man studied the steps. "The buckskin, in particular, Mr. Cain. Please, find that buckskin filly for her."

"I'll do my best, sir." Cain bid him good-bye and headed to where his gray horse was tied near the corral. Unhitching him from the post, Cain swung up.

Adora was now stroking the horse, but looking at Cain. She was slightly less hostile, but the doubt was still fairly plain on her face. Remembering what Reed had said, Cain merely looked back at her and tipped the brim of his hat.

The small gesture seemed to catch her off guard and the armor of chilly unfriendliness seemed to melt ever-so-slightly. Without a word, he nudged the horse who responded quickly and broke into a lope. He was nearly to the edge of the woods when he drew on the bridle, turned around in the saddle and looked back. Adora was standing on the rails of the corral, leaning on the top board and watching him leave. She quickly disappeared when she saw him look and he grinned.

He did love a challenge, after all.

She did have her reasons. How many times had someone refused to pay a fair price for her horses? How often had she been in town and heard other women whispering behind their hands about odd little Adora who ran around in men's shirts and pants? And then whisper about her father who had apparently raised her with the wolves? How many times had the little man tried to charge her extra when she picked up her grain because he thought her stupid?

Yes, she was defensive. Too, defensive, she'd even admit. But the fact of the matter was narrow- minded people had made her this way.

"Adora!"

She was startled and jumped, clattering her silverware. "What?! Dad, yes?"

He was smiling that goofy, knowing smile. She had been caught. "Would you please pass the jam?"

"Oh, sure." She handed it across to him and tried to pay attention to her own breakfast. She'd barely touched her eggs.

Her father spread some of the jam on a biscuit. "I imagine Mr. Cain will be back soon."

"I suppose." She tried to sound as disinterested as possible.

"Then, perhaps you'll stop staring out the window?"

She was ready for him this time. "I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about." She said smoothly.

"Oh, don't you?" he replied mirthfully as he chewed. "That's the third time this morning you've been looking off to the south and daydreaming."

Adora was not sitting still for this. She gathered her uneaten breakfast and headed for the sink. "I keep trying to calculate my chances of seeing those horses again. I'm coming up at 70 to 1 odds against."

"I'll take that bet." He turned in his chair as she pulled a jacket on. "Perhaps you should have a little more faith in Mr. Cain."

"Perhaps you have too much faith, Dad." Adora pulled the door open, stepped out, and closed it on her father's smiling face. _Crazy old coot_, she thought as she trotted down the steps and headed for the barn.

So what? She was wondering about her stock. Her father was wrong. It had nothing to do with the Tin Man who had gone after them. Nothing to do with the only man, aside from her father, that had shown her any kind of courtesy in a very long time. Nothing to do with him pulling that hat over those eyes, as gray as the sky before a snowstorm. . .

_Stop it, Adora! _She ordered herself. She had halted and was once again staring, and gods help her if Dad looked out the window or something.

She started to walk again, pulling her jacket a little closer around her to keep out the chill. Besides, even if he did bring the horses back, that would be it. He wasn't interested in a woman who dressed like a man and had earned a reputation as a lunatic. He'd climb on his horse and ride away. She'd probably never see him again.

This time, when she looked to the south, she finally saw something. The figures of four horses emerged from the shadows of the trees and started down the hill towards her. Adora grinned as they got close enough that she could see the buckskin filly she so cherished buck and throw out her hind legs as if she, too, were glad she was being returned.

Behind them came the Tin Man, driving them home. Adora raced over and opened the gate on the corral. He drove them in easily and drew up his own mount, taking a deep breath. As she shut the gate, the filly came over. Reaching through the rails, Adora scratched her favorite spot, right between the ears. "Mr. Cain, how can I thank you?"

"Just doing my job, Ms. Reed."

She took a deep breath. Time to chow on a bit of crow. "Mr. Cain, I just want to say--" she turned and paused at the sight of him. "Are you all right?"

Those stormy eyes, the one's she had seen so often in her dreams over the past three days, turned to her and she was shocked at the pain behind them. "Mr. Cain?"

He collapsed against the horse, leaving a trail of blood down the stirrup leather. He had hit the ground before Adora could get to him. Quickly, she rolled him over, his front now covered with mud and his blood. Resting his head in her lap, she pulled back his duster and spotted the injury. There was a ragged, bloody hole in the white shirt beneath where the bullet had torn into his shoulder.

"Dad!"

A soft bed was a commodity in the life of a Tin Man. Even those stationed in Central City would be hard pressed to find one some nights. For them, it was chasing criminals until some gods-forsaken time of the morning. For those like Cain, stationed in the Wilderness, it just wasn't practical. One man was expected to cover hundreds of square spans. That meant a lot of time spent on a bedroll.

Still, this was not the way to get a bed.

This was his first thought as he came back to consciousness. The second was that he felt as though he had just got done the grueling recruit obstacle course back at the academy. Every muscle ached.

He hadn't come fully back to himself, eyes not even open, when he heard someone come through the door. He raised his gun, clicking the hammer back in a smooth, easy motion.

There was a slight gasp, followed by an irritated voice. "Do I even want to know how you got a hold of that? I left it on the dresser."

He opened his eyes to see an amused, exasperated Adora Reed standing in the door. He lowered the gun. "Just returning the favor."

"Doesn't matter. I took the bullets out of it." She walked over and held out her hand.

He relinquished the revolver. "It seems you do that a lot."

If she was surprised that he possessed that little tidbit of information, she didn't show it as she put the gun back. "My father has been running his mouth, I see."

"Do you have something against bullets actually in guns?"

"People get hurt that way." Adora sat down on the edge of the bed, checking the dressing on his shoulder. "How does it feel?"

"Not to bad." And it was true. He thought he was going to have to play the "manly man", but in truth, it barely hurt him at all. "Your father didn't give me something, did he?"

"Essence of Linder Root." Adora smiled at the apprehension in his voice. "It builds strength and regenerates muscle tissue. He went to find some more before the snow hits."

"I'll have to thank him when he gets back." Maybe George Reed wasn't such a nut after all. He had been shot before in the leg, which was the main reason he had wanted to get out of Central City. Recovery had hurt like hell. This was a cake walk by comparison.

"We should be thanking you." Adora said. He looked at her in surprise and she smiled timidly. "Those horses do mean a lot to us."

"You're quite welcome, Ms. Reed." He watched her trace the pattern of the quilt covering him with a forefinger, not meeting his eyes. "Was there something else?"

"No—well, yes." She took a deep breath, still not looking at him. "It's just, yesterday, when you came back, I wanted to tell you. . ."

"Yes?"

She looked like she lost her nerve and was grappling with what she wanted to say. After a second, she made an impatient noise and turned those eyes straight on him. "You really don't have the brains the gods gave a goose, do you?"

What just happened? Not that he was one for them, but where was the hero's welcome? She had been on the verge of one and he had to admit he was looking forward to it. He wasn't taking this one lying down. . .so to speak. "What are you talking about?"

"I mean, really. Six men? Don't you know when you're outgunned?" Adora pushed off the bed and threw her arms in the air, pacing.

"I got ambushed! What was I supposed to do--"

"Oh, gee, I don't know?" she had crossed her arms. "Run away? Or won't that damn Tin Man pride allow that?"

"Lady, you are a certifiable headcase!"

"Oh, I'm a headcase? I'm a headcase! Compared to what? A man that risks his life for four horses? Your life isn't worth that!"

She stopped short, looking mystified by the words that had just come out of her mouth. Before either of them could speak again, George Reed burst into the room still wearing his coat and carrying his walking stick, the cold radiating off of him. "What is going on in here?"

"I-I," Adora seemed at a loss for words for once. "I was thanking Mr. Cain."

"Sounded like you were tearing him apart." He gave his daughter a reproachful glare. "You know better than to upset a man in Mr. Cain's condition."

"Yeah, Dad. I do."

She looked at the floor instead of at either of them. Reed took a deep breath before addressing Cain. "I apologize again for my daughter's behavior, since she seems incapable of doing so herself." Adora looked as though she wanted to melt through the wooden floor boards. "Give the herbs a few minutes to steep and I'll bring you some more tea."

"I'd appreciate that, sir."

With one last meaningful look at his daughter, Reed closed the door. Adora still refused to look at Cain. "I am sorry."

"What?" It came more from disbelief than from a desire for to repeat the apology.

She wasn't angry, though. Just ashamed. "I said 'I'm sorry.'. You didn't deserve that, just now. And you didn't deserve me shoving a gun in your face the other day, either."

Realizing his mouth was hanging open, he quickly shut it. "It's all right. I understand."

Adora looked up, bemused. "You do?"

"Sure," he decided to try his hand at some light teasing. "You're nuts."

She smiled. She was beautiful when she smiled. "I thank you, for your understanding, Mr. Cain. Still," Cain got the sense he was about get as good as he gave. "I can't be entirely grateful, I'm afraid. You owe me seventy silver coins, friend."

"I do?" Cain grinned as she sat on his bed again. "And why is that?"

She smirked. "Thanks to you, I just lost a bet to my father."


	2. An Evening Out

_**A/N:**__ Done with one, back to the other. While writing the one-shots for this particular story, I got inspired to write Darkness Falls. They've since been sitting on the hard drive. Oddly enough, that gave me more ideas for this story. It's a never-ending vicious cycle._

_There's not a whole lot to these, they're just fun._

An Evening Out

There was a bang loud enough to make Adora nearly crack her head on the beam above her. Wondering what in the world had blown up in the stable yard, she rushed to the loft's exterior door and swung it out. A grin lit up her face at the sight below her.

Wyatt Cain was extracting himself from a black, dilapidated, self-propelled, wagon-like contraption with a large circle and star painted on the side. As he fumbled around the interior for his ever-present hat, he was obviously irritated as he scowled and slammed the door.

There was nothing to do but add her two cents. "What in the name of the two suns is that?"

"That," Wyatt did very little to hide his disgust, "is the Eastern Territories 'new' Locomotive Prisoner Containment Unit."

"I see." Adora crossed her arms and leaned against the door frame. "I hope you didn't trade Blue in on that thing."

"Trust me, that horse has more spans left in him than this thing does." He stood below her looking up and spread his arms. "I'm told this is our future. One day, you'll see these things all over the O.Z.."

She smiled. "Perish the thought."

Wyatt chuckled as she moved back inside, threw down one last bale of hay, and headed for the ladder. When she reached the bottom, he had already stowed the last bale for the horse's evening feeding and was reaching beneath his coat for a knife to slice the bailing twine.

With a gentle hand on his arm, she stopped him. "Hey, wait a sec."

There was a deep sigh and he gave her a sideways look. "Are you kidding?"

"Sorry, no." She smiled.

"Fine," he said with mock-irritation, pulling out the lapels of his jacket and displaying his lack of injury. "No holes. Are you satisfied?"

On the pretense of making sure he was unhurt, Adora stood admiring the view. The clothes were new. The occasion dictated a more formal uniform than just a badge. He had traded his worn, lighter colored pants for dark trousers. The dark blue vest brought out those gray eyes and was form fitted to his muscled chest. As usual, the first two buttons of the crisp white shirt beneath it were undone. Over all of this was a midnight blue jacket that just covered the holster on his hip.

Ordering her knees to get back in line, she finally nodded her approval. "Yeah, sure. I'm satisfied."

To cover her sudden inability to breathe, she turned and scooped up an armload of hay. Wyatt followed suit, even as she chided him for wrinkling his 'going to town clothes'. He waved her off and moved to the opposite side of the aisle to help her finish her chores.

It was almost a routine at this point. Over the winter, Wyatt Cain had been back several times. He would stop for a visit, just to check on Adora and her father. Often, her father would feed him and to show his gratitude, Wyatt would accompany her to the barn to see to the chores.

There had been a few times, too, when the Tin Man had taken shelter in their cabin when the foul weather had caught him too far from the barracks. Seeming to enjoy the Reeds' company, he would stay up late into the night, just talking with them about the goings-on at the ranch or whatever new concoction George was brewing. At least they would until her scheming old codger of a father would yawn ostentatiously, give her a wink, and bid them goodnight.

At first, she had glared at him, until she caught Wyatt laughing at the pair of them. She began to mind less and less, falling into an easy relationship with this man. He seemed to find as much comfort in her presence as she found in his. It was an odd friendship, she supposed, but one that was quickly becoming very dear to her.

She prayed she wouldn't screw it up.

"Where's your dad?" Cain broke the silence.

Adora pushed away a particularly greedy mouth and hefted some hay into the stall. "Probably at the house, but I can't be sure. He might be out in the woods again. He's got another theory."

"What now?" Cain was fond of the old man. Unlike so many others, he seemed to find the work of George Reed interesting. Or at least amusing.

"He's distilling hepatica. Something about a cure for Winter Sickness." She laughed. "Or acne."

"Uh-_huh_."

"The house smells terrible. Something like feet and boiled cabbage." She smiled as he made a face. "Aren't you supposed to be working tonight?"

It was the eve of the annual Spring Celebration, a time of year when farmers and their families came together to honor the old gods of the harvest and pray for bumper crops. Tonight was the dance that kicked off the festival and since the rest of the week was going to be a fairly somber occasion, the dance had a history of getting a little rowdy.

Wyatt sighed as he patted the last horse he fed. "I am, but I thought Carroll and Bradshaw could get along without me for a little while."

She grinned mischievously. "It's good to be the boss."

He was soaring through the ranks and had just made lieutenant, overseeing the fifteen men at the Grafton barracks. It was a hard-won position.

Not only had he busted up the horse-thieving ring before the winter, but he had also managed to shut down an illegal whiskey operation just south of Grafton. People were beginning to speak his name with awe. Men tipped their hats when he passed through town and many of the available young women of the country were beginning to try and win his favor with a various assortment of baked goods.

Adora began to look for her watering bucket as he spoke again. "I figured I could swing past here first at least. They won't really get started until the third or fourth barrel of mead."

"Not so." Adora watched him brush the chaff from his duster. "Last year, Peter Garrow got drunk before the dance even started and tried to bring a pig as a date."

"A pig?"

"I swear. It had a little pink ribbon on it and everything." She laughed

He chuckled along with her. "Just think of what we're missing."

She stopped laughing. "Pardon?"

He shrugged nonchalantly. "I thought, perhaps, you'd liked to go to the dance with me."

"Me?" she was dumbfounded as she felt her mouth go dry.

"No, Clyde." He gave an exasperated wave at the big bay gelding behind her.

"I don't think pink will look nice on him." Adora swooped in on her bucket and started towards the water pump, walking away quickly as she tried to think. "You might try blue or-"

Wyatt caught up to her and grabbed her shoulder, turning her around. He saw the sharpness for what it was, a maneuver, an escape. "Adora, just stop, okay? It would be my pleasure to escort you to the dance."

"I thought you were working." She said quietly. Oh, she wanted to go so badly, but her brain just kept throwing up obstacles.

He eyed her carefully. "I hope that's not what's bothering you. I cleared it with my commander."

_This is a bad idea, Adora. _She was going to stand out like the flying monkey at a royal coronation. People in town didn't like her and she wasn't all that fond of them. If Wyatt showed up with her it could reflect badly on him.

Then, of course, there was that other problem. She'd have to find a way around confessing to that.

Her heart thumped loudly in her chest as she shrugged out of his grasp. "Wyatt, I have too much to do here."

"You're almost done."

Damn. That's right. He knew the routine. "Dad-Dad still needs supper."

"Your father does all the cooking." He was smiling now, enjoying her squirming. "He feeds you, remember?"

Oh, so he was going to hit below the belt, huh? Moving to the hand pump, she stuck her nose in the air and adapted a haughty tone. "I have never found occasion to be dragged off to one of these pointless functions. I haven't got anything to wear."

She had confessed, but managed to do it in her usual, sassy way.

Until he shrugged and said with complete honesty. "Wear what you're wearing. You look beautiful."

And with that, she was completely disarmed. She turned away from the bucket just to stare at him. Feeling completely emotionally exposed, she looked into those eyes and felt that he was being completely truthful.

He spun his hat in his hands, but never looked away from her. "You can wear a burlap sack if you want."

Adora dropped the barriers and moved towards him with a small smile. "Wyatt, you don't get it. Are you sure you want to be seen in town with me?"

"Why not?" He knew why not. She knew he knew why not.

"You could go with any one you wanted."

"I want to go with you."

Adora's heart skipped a little as she buried her head in her hands. She was laughing when she looked up at him again. "Now what girl in her right mind could resist that?"

"You aren't in your right mind." He grinned.

She smacked him lightly on the shoulder for the insult, but shook her head in defeat. "Just let me water the horses, okay?"

Without another word, he walked past her and headed for the water pump.

Shaking her head, she left the barn to go see what she had in her closet.

* * *

The room was abysmal. Trousers, shirts, and boots were strewn about on her bed and hanging from her desk chair. Adora had been to the farthest reaches of her closet and all she had found was an atrocious teal pinafore that her father had purchased in some fit of insanity when Adora was twelve annuals old.

Sullenly, she picked up a boot from the end of her bed and dropped it on the floor. Then, she flopped down, resting her chin in her hand. This, she decided, was definitely uncharted territory. Her looks had never mattered before. She spent her life in a barn. The horses didn't really care what she looked like.

Of course, neither did Wyatt. She smiled at the thought, but the simple fact of the matter was that she cared. For the first time in her life, she wanted to look nice.

It seemed a little unwise to have neglected her wardrobe as much as she had. "This is hopeless."

There was a gentle knock on her door. Adora sighed. "Come in if you've got a gun."

She wasn't surprised to see her father limp through the door. A hand was behind his back, but she knew better than to inquire before he was ready to reveal.

George gave a sympathetic look to his offspring. "Mr. Cain just came in. Said something about the Spring Festival dance."

"Yeah," Adora stood up, gathering her clothing. "He wanted me to go with him, but . . ."

"A lack of appropriate attire?"

She threw one of her boots into the closet, making it thunk loudly on the floor. "Yeah."

Still with his back to the wall, he smiled sadly. When he spoke again, it was with exaggerated regret. "Sometimes, I think I did you a disservice. Raising you out here all alone, no mother to help in situations like these."

Adora rolled her eyes and smirked. "Are we going to have a father-daughter moment here? I may need to step outside and throw up."

"See, its charming comments like that which make me question how well I raised you." But there was a twinkle in his eye.

"What's behind your back?" She asked in a tired fashion.

"Done with the sentiment, I gather?" he asked.

"More than I can possibly express."

Without further conversation, he pulled the dress from behind him. It was lilac and the material was light and soft to the touch when Adora, awe-struck, moved forward to run her fingers over it. It felt like water running over her skin.

"Where did you get it?"

Her father beamed. "Mrs. Foster made it. I bartered her that hair tonic for it."

Adora closed her eyes and shook her head. "Was it for growing hair or removing it?"

Her father laughed as she again ran her hand over the material "It's lovely. But you shouldn't have."

"My dear, at the risk of sounding like a sap," he said softly. "My greatest joy in this life is seeing you happy. And over the past few months, you've been the happiest I've ever seen you. I have no doubt, its due in large part to that young man waiting in the other room."

* * *

Wyatt was sitting at the table, having a cup of coffee with George when the door to the back room opened and he was rendered mute.

Adora walked out, obviously feeling a little out of place in the clothes she was unaccustomed to wearing. Shyness and uncertainty were not something he was used to with Adora Reed.

The light purple dress was pinned at the shoulders, the cloth falling away to expose her shoulder. The airy material draped across her chest and flowed down, hugging her curves delicately. The tangled mane of honey-blonde hair had been tamed, curling softly around her shoulders.

She swallowed and smiled. "Well? I know it's not a burlap sack. . ."

"You look wonderful." He said abruptly.

The hand went to the hip. "Mr. Cain, if you keep saying things like that you're going to make me blush."

There was his Adora . . .er, the Adora he knew.

She started to laugh and he realized he was staring. "You know, you really should get there sometime tonight if you're supposed to be on guard detail."

"What? Oh, yes. Sorry." He went to the door and bowed low. "Your chariot awaits, milady."

She groaned as she drew a dark shawl around her shoulders. "I forgot about that thing."

George followed them out to the porch. Wyatt had brought the wagon to the front door and handed Adora into the passenger's seat. "We won't be too late, sir."

"Keep her out as late as you want." The old man called back as Wyatt rounded the front of the truck to climb in.

"Dad!" Adora had figured out how to wind down the window as was scowling at her father.

He laughed. "Have a wonderful time, darling."

* * *

"Your seat needs new springs." Adora said wryly, rubbing her butt as she headed towards the Town Hall. "Yeesh, it feels like I went a few rounds on a green colt."

Wyatt snickered as he watched her stretch. "Take it up with the bureaucrats. I'm just a working stiff."

She laughed a bit as they walked together in a comfortable silence. He almost felt that he could reach out and take her hand without her objecting, but a slight hint of uncertainty kept him from doing it. This was a different relationship than any other he had before. Adora wasn't silly, like other women her age. She didn't giggle at everything he said, didn't flirt overtly with him. First and foremost, she was his friend, though he had no delusions that he was beginning to feel more for her than just amity.

He treasured the trust that she had given him. It had been hard-won and there was no sense in moving too fast and screwing that up now. He could wait.

They were at the steps of the large, wooden building. The music from the five-piece band floated down through the open doors. People were laughing and talking. It sounded like a good time.

He began up the steps when he realized he was walking alone. He turned to find Adora at the base of the stairs, looking up with a bit of apprehension. "You okay?"

She scrunched up her face as if in pain. "I have a confession."

"Do I need the cuffs?"

"You wish." She shot back quickly with an evil grin.

Cain barked a laugh. "What hideous crime have you committed?"

"Well, none yet." She joined him on the bottom stair. "But if you ask me to dance, we could have a problem."

"You can't dance?"

"I told you've I never been to one of these things." Adora replied.

"What about those Viewer rituals you and your father have been to?" Cain asked. "He's described all kinds of dancing at those things."

"Yeah, half-naked around a bonfire. That's not gonna fly here."

Wyatt blinked at her a few times. "How come I don't get invitations to those affairs?"

A beautiful blush crept to her cheeks. "Could you be serious here?"

"I've never been more serious in my life. It would be the neighborly thing to do and invite me along."

"So you can see my father in a loin cloth?"

He winced as the mental picture was seared into his brain. He wasn't going to forget that anytime soon, but he laughed, knowing he was bested. "It's not a big deal if you can't dance."

"You won't be saying that later if I trod all over your feet."

"I've got the boots on." He noted her sandal-clad feet as he offered her his arm. "Shall we?"

She shook her head, took his elbow and allowed him to lead her inside.

The hall was splendidly lit with the new electric lights. The small power station on a nearby river had provided electricity to the little town and Mayor Hargrove was most anxious to showcase the monumental technological step forward. The new lamps glowed on the walls and a modest chandelier sparkled on the ceiling.

The town ladies had worked to bring spring indoors for the festival. Daffodils and hyacinths were on every table and boughs of fresh greens adorned the walls. In the center of the hall was the dance floor and Adora smiled as she watched couples spin around quickly, somehow not colliding with each other in their revelry.

Wyatt guided her around the whirling masses of boots and skirts. There were three other men dressed as Cain was in the dark blue of the Tin Man. Carroll was the stout young blonde man with the exceedingly red face. Bradshaw was a bit older with salt-and-pepper brown hair and built like a bean-pole.

Suddenly, she felt as though she wanted to melt through the wooden floor. Somewhere along the line, she should have expected this, but she had kind of been swept up in the moment when Wyatt had invited her.

"Sir," Wyatt said as he approached the tall, rangy man with the brown moustache. This was his commanding officer, Captain Higgins. "I'm sorry I'm late."

Higgins voice was gruff as he spoke. "Surprised you got here at all in that rattle-trap division has the nerve to call a vehicle."

His brown eyes had fallen on Adora and he did a double-take. The words _damage control_ flashed through her mind as she plastered on what she hoped was a pleasant, charming smile.

"Captain Higgins, may I present Ms. Adora Reed." Wyatt said politely.

"We've met." Higgins replied dryly.

Adora couldn't decide between giggling and chagrin. She decided to try a hand at polite grace. "It's a pleasure to see you again, Captain."

She was aware that Carroll and Bradshaw were staring at her, slack-jawed as well, but she ignored them. The imp in her simply could not be subdued. "How is your nose, sir?"

His hand went for it instinctively and Adora had to bite her tongue to keep herself from laughing.

"It seems to have healed." Higgins cleared his throat and pinned Wyatt with a serious look. "I hope you know what you're in for, son."

"I've been informed of how rowdy the Spring Festival can get, sir."

"I wasn't talking about the dance." With a polite nod to Adora, he strode off towards the bar that had been set up in the corner.

Carroll headed off towards the entrance and Adora distinctly heard Bradshaw mutter "Good luck." to Wyatt before moving towards a pretty redhead in the corner.

When she managed to look over at Wyatt, she found his eyes narrowed as he studied her. "Have you managed to insult the entire Tin Man force?"

"That's a little unfair." She whispered as he began to lead her through the crowd again. "There's only a couple dozen stationed in the Territories."

"Care to tell me what happened with the Captain?"

"Not really."

"Adora-"

"Look," she sighed, heavily, "it involved Dad's wart remover cream, a keg of beer, and six chickens."

"All right, I don't want to know."

"Don't worry, Higgins dropped the charges." Adora replied. "I-"

She cut short when she realized they had made it to the dance floor. Wyatt's arm was around her waist, hers was on his shoulder and they were moving around the floor with a passable grace. It had been so natural, she had fallen into the rhythm without even knowing it. The slow song was half-finished. "When did we get here?"

He smiled as he spun her around. "I didn't feel like fighting with you, so I figured I'd just sneak you out here while you were running your mouth."

"Ever the gentleman." She replied. Oddly, she wasn't as uncomfortable as she thought she would be. Wyatt was holding her fairly close and steering her easily. She just made sure not to put too much thought into the process.

The song ended all too quickly and livelier number was next. "Don't suppose you want to try this one."

"I'll pass."

Adora led the way, but as she was moving towards the refreshment table, Wyatt grabbed her arm. "I'll be right back."

As he disappeared into the crowd, Adora stood on her tiptoes to see what the problem was. Near the door, Bradshaw was locked in a heated argument with a man that looked like he had had a few too many. Wyatt put a hand on his fellow officer's back as a signal to simmer down.

She lost sight of him as she was jostled by the dancers and decided to clear the floor before she got stampeded. Moving away, she spotted the bowl of punch and headed towards it.

The young boy manning the drinks ladled out a cup for her. "There you are, Miss."

"Thanks," she smiled. Eh, maybe being out in public wasn't so bad after all.

"Well, well. Look who it is."

Okay, scratch that. Usually, there was an uneasy truce between Adora and her former arch-nemesis whenever they met in town. Apparently, it was time to put the gloves back on.

Adora could feel her claws come out, but she reminded herself that her actions would reflect on Wyatt. She would attempt to be civil. "Delores. So nice to see you."

The daughter of a wealthy merchant, Delores Donnell was tall with auburn hair and milky-white skin. Her two, equally attractive and well-dressed friends flanked her, both looking down on Adora with disgust.

Very green eyes, that just matched her satin dress, took in Adora's attire. "I wasn't aware that you knew how to dress for formal occasions."

Delores and Adora had been at it since grade school. The feud was legendary. But again, Adora reined herself in. "I had some help. My father gave it to me."

There was laughter among the three girls. "Fashion advice from a crazy man?"

"He's not crazy." Oh, she was trying so hard, but visions of slapping that self-righteous smirk off Delores's face were flashing before her eyes. "He's just a little different."

"I'll say," the blonde girl on Delores's right laughed.

But Delores's ire was back on Adora. "What are you doing here?"

"I was invited." Adora leaned back and sipped her drink, casually.

"By Wyatt Cain?"

She smiled a bit as it all suddenly clicked and she felt her pride swell as she answered. "Not that it's any of your business, but yes."

Delores flipped a lock of hair. "Tell me, did your father brew a love potion for you to poison that poor man with?"

"I can see how someone as desperate as yourself might like to think such a thing exists." Adora replied sweetly as she batted her eyes.

Delores leaned in, seething. "What could a man like that possibly see in you?"

"I'm not sure." Adora leaned in, too, and said slowly. "But whatever it is, he certainly doesn't see it in you."

Adora had to give her credit, Delores was quick. Before she could defend herself, the other woman had grabbed a hunk of cake from the table and smeared in Adora's face and down the front of her dress.

For a few seconds, Adora stood dazed as the frosting slid from her face.

Delores and her friends were laughing. She wiped away tears of mirth. "Aw, guess your Tin Man isn't going to be so eager to dance with you again."

That was it.

Delores squawked as Adora grabbed her around the waist and heaved her around. Together, they crashed into the table taking the whole kit and caboodle to the floor. Adora rolled to her knees and grabbed the nearest thing she could find. She registered it as some sort of chocolate frosted confection before she dumped the entire thing on Delores's head. The girl wailed as she scrabbled at the table to get away from Adora's furious attack.

In an attempt to defend herself, Delores snatched up a pie and flung wildly in Adora's direction. She ducked and unfortunately, the missile hit Old Man McMullen instead. The man cursed loudly as the red berries dripped off of his overalls. He picked up what remained of the dessert and tossed it back towards the wrestling duo, inadvertently splattering half of the onlookers.

Pandemonium reigned supreme. Before Adora really registered what had happened, the entire hall descended into chaos. Food was flying everywhere.

She was about to have another go at Delores when all of the sudden strong arms lifted her up. Before she could register a thought, she found herself looking down Wyatt's back. After a few seconds of admiring the view she was getting, she began to pitch a fit. "Wyatt, put me down!"

"By the Code of Statutes, I hereby place you under arrest. Your rights are as follows-"

"You are not arresting me!" Adora yelled in disbelief as he continued on with the speech, carrying her towards the door. The frigid night air hit her legs as she heard the rear of the wagon open. None too gently, he dropped her on the metal floor. "I didn't start it."

His hat was on his head and she could just see a smear of cake frosting under his eye in the light from the hall. "Just cool off a few minutes, will ya?"

Had it been anyone else, she would have screamed herself hoarse and beaten her fists against the sides of the truck until they were bloody. But this was Wyatt. She owed him this much.

Seeing as how she had just made fools of both of them.

* * *

About ten minutes later, she heard him get in the front of the truck and start the engine. He didn't say a word to her as he pulled out.

They stopped a short time later and Adora raised her head from where it had been resting on her knees. There was the metallic grind of the back doors being unlocked before they swung open. There he stood, bathed in the moonlight, hands on his hips. "Are you coming?"

Slowly, she stood and readjusted her dress before moving to the back of the vehicle. Her heart ached a bit as he held up a hand in one of those simple and kind gestures that she found so endearing. She took it and let him help her down.

They were beside a small stream and she turned to look at him curiously.

"I thought you might like to wash some of that cake off before I take you home."

Cold realization settled in the pit of her stomach. That was it. She had run him off. Who wanted to put up with this kind of nonsense on a regular basis?

She mumbled her thanks as she moved to the stream. Carefully, she raised the hem of her dress to kneel down. It was bad enough there was cake smeared all over it, she wasn't about to get mud on it, too. With her hands, she drew up some of the cold, clear water to wash her face, telling herself that crying in front of him was not an option. She still had her pride. Sort of.

She almost fell in when he crouched down beside her. "Carroll heard the whole thing, you know. He saw what Delores did."

Adora looked up quickly. "Huh?"

"Look, you could have handled it better," he tried to hide a smile, "but I can see why you were upset."

She narrowed her eyes. "Are you serious?"

"Why is it always so hard to make you believe I'm being sincere?"

Adora shrugged. "I'm not sure."

She knew he was studying her, but his eyes were hidden by that stupid hat. "I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For making you go to that dance." Wyatt replied. "If I'd have known-"

"I had a good time." She said, quietly cutting him off insistently. "It wasn't that long, but it was fun."

"Up until the food fight."

Adora cocked her head. "That was fun, too, actually."

He shook his head as he reached up and picked some of the icing from her hair. "You're something else, you know that?"

"If you figure out what, please let me know." She picked up a rock and threw it into the stream, watching the ripples. "I'm sorry, too. I overreacted."

"You can't let those people get to you." He removed his hat, picking crumbs from it. "They just don't know you like I do."

"And do you know me, Wyatt Cain?" She asked teasingly.

"Not as well as I'd like." He conceded before he looked up into her eyes. "But I'm having a good time finding out."

"You're an idiot, you know that?" She laughed. "I am not worth all the trouble."

He edged closer. "I'll be the judge of that."

Adora closed her eyes and let him come to her. His lips were gentle on her's, tentative and asking permission. She gave it, leaning in and opening her mouth just a bit to encourage him. Cautiously, she brought a hand to his cheek and caressed it as he deepened the kiss.

And then, just as gently, he backed away, leaving her lips tingling. Wyatt smiled. "Definitely worth the trouble."

He stood up and offered a hand. "Come on. It's starting to get cold."

"My father's going to be disappointed that I'm home so early." She watched him take his jacket off and allowed him to drape it over her shoulders.

Wyatt pulled her close, tucking her safely under his arm as they started back towards the truck. "It's okay. We'll just send him off to bed."

* * *

_Ick, fluff! I know my Adora is a little rowdier than some others. I have no idea why she comes to me like this, but she's fun to write. It's just a different take._


	3. Love and Loss

The sun was just setting, streaking the late summer's sky with reds and ambers. The shadows were lengthening and the whispers of the cool night to come were all around.

Wyatt Cain was whistling as he rode. It wasn't a habit he indulged in. He found men that whistled constantly fairly annoying. But today, he needed it. He needed an outlet for the happiness. . .

And the nerves.

Sitting just beneath his tin badge, stowed in his vest pocket, was a set of gold rings. He had found them on this latest mission to the edge of the Territories, made by a little guildsman who specialized in creating the finest jewelry to be had. Their quality could not be equaled.

And tonight, he'd ask her. He would ask Adora to marry him.

Part of him was positive she'd say yes. That she'd throw herself into his arms, kiss him soundly and excitedly and proclaim her resounding love for him.

The other part of him reasoned that this was Adora and she was unpredictable. It was something he loved about her, but odds were good she'd tell him 'no' just to play with his head.

Or she would say no simply because she wasn't interested in marrying him.

The whistling got louder as he nudged Blue to a lope. He'd better hurry up and get there before he either fainted or lost heart and chickened out.

As he crested the ridge above the Reed farm, he had to smile. Since coming to the Territories, this had become his home. And it was his home because Adora was there.

As he rode down the hill, he noticed the old sedan parked in front of the cabin. Concern took him as he got closer. That was Doc Jackson's car, the town physician. Again, he pushed Blue forward into an all-out gallop as fear gripped him. It had to be serious if the Reeds' had called a doctor.

The gray slid to a halt in front of the house, leaving a set of parallel skid marks in the soft dirt. Cain was just swinging down as the door opened and the old man appeared, wiping his bald head with a handkerchief. "I'm sorry, Ms. Reed. There's nothing I can do."

Adora was behind him, closing the door. Her voice was soft and solemn. "I know, Doc. Thank you anyway."

Her eyes fell on Wyatt who had just tethered Blue to the hitching post. Without a word, he climbed the steps two at a time and grabbed her in a tight embrace. She drew a deep, shuddering breath against his duster, gripping the fabric as though her life depended on it. "He's dying."

When he finally let her go, he studied her carefully. She was pale and tired-looking. Dark circles had formed under her eyes. "You look spent."

Doctor Jackson was headed down the steps. "That's what I told her. See that she eats and rests, Mr. Cain."

Like he would be able to make her do what she didn't want to. He just held her close. "Yes sir."

"Come in," she said quietly as the doctor climbed in his car and turned the engine over. "Dad'll want to see you."

When he came in, Wyatt spied three familiar faces. They were Viewers from the nearby settlement that he had often seen coming and going on the Reed farm. The old, graying male uttered a soft greeting in broken English as Adora and Wyatt came through the door. "Welcome, Tin Man."

"Hi, Lon."

The female, Tama, nodded as he entered. Her speech was more fluent, bespeaking of her time spent among humans. "Mr. Cain."

Taking his hat off, he nodded to her politely. "How is he?"

"Will cross soon." Tama stroked the head of the small male, Mer, seated on her lap, weeping into the furs that she wore. "Nothing to do."

Seeing the child in distress, Wyatt tried to reassure the little Viewer as he touched him. He had learned so much about these often misunderstood people from Adora and George. "It's okay."

Mer hiccupped and sniffled, but seemed grateful for the contact.

Adora ran a hand over Mer's head as well before taking Wyatt's hand. "Come on."

Giving her a reassuring squeeze, Wyatt followed her to the room in the back of the house that her father used.

His breath was raspy as the couple entered. Though the entire time Wyatt had known him, George had been a lame, old man, he had never seemed weak. The same stubbornness and perseverance he loved in Adora shown through in him.

But now, he seemed lost in the large feather bed. George was pale, his eyes open to barely slits, following Adora as she moved away from Wyatt and crossed the room to open the window. "It smells like an old codger lives in here."

If he hadn't known them better, Wyatt would have been shocked. But he smiled as the thin form under the covers chuckled weakly. "Your compassion is overwhelming."

"I'm not babying you. Forget it." She belied the words immediately by crouching down beside her father and smoothing back his fine, gray hair. "How are you feeling?"

"Very, very tired." George answered slowly. He finally noticed Wyatt lurking in his doorway. "Well, well. I was beginning to wonder if the Guild Fighters had gotten you, son."

"Not hardly." Wyatt stepped forward and shook the hand George extended. It was not the robust greeting he was accustomed to. He could almost feel the life leaving George. "They're feisty, but nothing compares to an evening in town with your daughter."

"I hear that."

"Thank you, both." Adora said pointedly as she dropped a cloth in a basin of cool water and wrung it out to place it on her father's forehead.

George smiled as he invited Wyatt to sit on the edge of the bed. "I have a favor to ask of you."

"Name it." He came to sit behind Adora to offer her all the support he could.

The old man jerked a thumb in her direction. "Keep her out of trouble."

Wyatt grinned as Adora rounded on her father. "You needn't talk that way you are going to be fine. And besides, I can look after myself."

"I know you can take care of yourself, girl. It's everyone else that I worry about." George rolled his eyes and coughed. "I can just see you now. You'll run rough-shod over the whole blasted town."

"I've been good."

"And I believe that to be Wyatt's influence." George returned. "Seems after I'm gone he'll be the only person that'll be able to talk any sense at all into you."

"Dad-"

"Adora," he cut her off gently, "don't keep telling me I'm gonna be fine. We both know I'm not. There's nothing wrong with that. Death is a part of life. I taught you that."

She nodded and Wyatt could see the tears running down her face as she said stubbornly. "That doesn't make it easier."

"Think about how I'm feeling," he smiled weakly, "I'm the one at the jumping-off point."

Adora gave a disgusted sigh and smiled through the tears. "You're impossible, Old Man."

"A sense of humor will get you through anything. Even death." George looked back to Wyatt. "On your honor as a Tin Man?"

"I'll exercise as much influence as I can, but that's as much of a promise as I can make." Adora's hand found his again.

"That's all I'm asking for."

Adora ran her other hand up and down her father's arm in a slow, soothing motion. "Can we get you anything?"

"No, just having the two of you here and seeing you together is enough." He adjusted himself on his pillows. George closed his eyes and seemed to drift off into an uneasy sleep.

It was hard for Wyatt to sit there and watch as the heart of the woman he loved broke into a thousand pieces. There was nothing he could do about it. Adora and George had an odd and wonderful relationship. It went beyond the realm of father-daughter and charged headlong into friendship territory. For all of their bickering and arguing, they were devoted to one another as was want to happen when two people had nothing in the world to depend on besides each other.

Wyatt rubbed her back and heard her sniffle. "Can I get you anything?"

"You're here." She turned to look over her shoulder. "That's all I need."

He pulled her back against him and let her relax against his chest. "I only wish there was more I could do."

"Just hold me, please?"

Immediately, he obliged, wrapping his arms around her and drawing her closer. Her head rested on his shoulder for a second before she squirmed. There was watery laughter in her voice as she said softly. "Your star is digging into my back, Tin Man."

"Sorry," As he always did, he undid the buttons on his vest and moved the badge over. "That should be more comfortable."

She hadn't leaned back two seconds when she was sitting upright again. "What's in your pocket?"

Damn. He had forgotten. Looking at the man on his death bed, he nodded towards the door. Carefully, he stood up and with one last look at her father, Adora followed. Wyatt closed the door softly behind them and found himself looking into confused, blue eyes. "What is it?"

With a deep sigh, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the gold bands. Placing them in his palm, he held them out for her to see as the firelight flickered on the circlets.

He watched her bite her lip before he spoke. "I was going to ask you tonight."

There were fresh tears in her eyes as she looked up and Wyatt cursed himself as she started to cry. Not silent tears as she had in front of George, but a good, hard, sobbing cry. Part of him hated having done this to her. Another part knew that she needed this. He held her as she hitched against him, rubbing her back as she muffled her weeping in his shoulder.

A soft hand was on Adora's arm where she clung to him. Tama had come over, drawn by the anguish she could feel from her friend. "Too many feelings?"

Adora had quieted enough to answer. "I feel like I'm going to explode."

"I'm sorry." Wyatt whispered into her hair. How could he have done that?

"No," the Viewer said gently. "No apologies to be made. Love is good."

"Tama's right." Adora pulled away and his heart ached to see her red, swollen eyes. She smiled all the same. "Don't apologize."

"If," Wyatt started into this territory cautiously, "my timing had been better; what do you think your answer would have been?"

There was a hint of her sass, which he took as a good sign. "It would have been 'no'."

He would have reacted if Tama hadn't given the woman in his arms a chiding look. The Viewer narrowed her eyes. "The truth?"

"That is the truth." Adora replied. "I love making him crazy."

"And after you had your fun?" Wyatt asked.

She rolled her eyes at him. "Why are you asking? You know it would have been a 'yes'."

He hugged her. "At least I'll know what to expect the next time I ask."

"The question is asked." There was an expression of exasperation on Tama's face. She gave humans that look a lot, now that Cain thought about it. "The answer is gotten."

They both looked at her, but it was Adora that spoke. "We know that. He's making a joke."

Tama was completely serious. "Would make crossing easier."

"What are you talking about?" Wyatt gave her a confused look.

"Why wait when there is love? Why wait until father is gone and not here to share the love? Would be easier to cross if he knew Adora happy."

Adora took a shuddering breath. "Tonight?"

"Tonight." The Viewer smiled.

After the shock passed, Wyatt remained absolutely silent. He was more than willing to do it , but he couldn't help her make this decision. It was up to Adora. She had just been through a whirlwind of feelings and whether she could hold up to the new emotional thrill-ride was up to her. Their marriage would be forever tied to her father's death and he had no idea if that was something she could deal with.

Though he had a feeling she would give anything in the world to have her father at her side if it were at all possible.

He let her fiddle with the badge on his vest, looking down at his shirt and lost in thought. It was a few minutes before she finally spoke. "Wyatt?"

"Yes?"

"Would you do this for me? For George?" She looked up. There was sadness and shock, but also resoluteness and even joy. "I know it's not the proper way these things are done . . ."

He laughed a little and pulled her closer, resting his forehead against hers. "When have we ever done anything conventional?"

"I would never be able to tell you how grateful I am."

"You don't have to." He whispered as he kissed her lightly. "I love you, remember?"

There was sniffle. "I'm not likely to forget anytime soon. I promise."

* * *

Blue was panting and sweaty by the time Cain reached the minister's house, located on the outskirts of town. Before he reached the porch, the door was opened by a kindly looking woman whose age he put at about fifty annuals, dressed for bed. Her plait of dark hair was streaked with gray as it ran over her shoulder from beneath her nightcap. "Mr. Cain. What brings you out at this hour? Is there trouble afoot?"

He smiled at her joke. He liked Kindra Ravenwood. She was sweet woman. "I wish it were that simple."

Wyatt explained the situation. The woman nodded and smiled when he had finished. "It's a very brave thing that you two are doing. I'm sure it will bring peace to George. He speaks so well of you."

It was hard to speak past the sudden lump in his throat, but he managed a "Thank you, ma'am."

While the minister changed, Wyatt harnessed Kindra's horse and hitched him to the small trap. He was leaving Blue in her stable yard. The poor animal was spent. Making sure his old friend would be comfortable for the night, Wyatt gave him a pat and headed back for the house. Kindra was just closing the door behind her as she told her husband where she was going and why. She turned back to Wyatt again. "A very brave thing, indeed."

Wyatt held his tongue. Bravery had nothing to do with it. Only love.

* * *

"It's a little early for the burial rites, Kindra." George chuckled from the bed, but it quickly turned to a coughing fit. Adora was behind him in an instant, helping him to sit up and take some water from the glass on the table. When he had settled back again, he looked to the woman again. "What brings you out here at this hour?"

Wyatt's blue eyes settled questioningly on her. "You didn't tell him?

Adora shook her head. "I, uh, was a little worried that you . . ."

He cocked his head and said without rancor. "That I'd change my mind? Sorry, darlin', but you're not getting rid of me that easy."

With those words, she felt any doubt about what they were about to do slip from her mind. He was in this for the long haul. And any man that was willing to go through with something like this was definitely worth keeping.

"It's a little late for riddles." George spoke up again with effort. "Would the two of you please explain what you're talking about?"

She tried to keep the pain out of her voice as she put a hand on her father's shoulder. "Wyatt asked me to marry him. And I said yes."

"Oh, Adora," he drew her down into an embrace, squeezing her as tightly as his feeble arms would allow. "My dear, you will be very happy. I know it."

Suddenly, George pushed her back and studied her. She could see that all of the pieces had just slid into place and the picture became clear. "Tonight? Here?"

"Yes sir." Wyatt came to stand behind her. His warm hand found her shoulder at the curve of her neck. She drew strength from the contact.

"No. No, not like this." George readjusted himself, agitated. "You may not have been a normal girl, Adora, but I know you dreamt of your wedding day. Outside in the spring with white flowers-"

"None of that," She cut him off gently, but firmly, "is as important to me as having my father there to see it."

He just stared back at her in a kind of shock. He seemed unsure of what to say, so she went on. She wouldn't keep the tears back anymore. "I love you, Old Man. Could you let Wyatt and I do just one lousy thing for you? Please?"

For a few seconds more, she thought he was going to resist. Instead, he sighed and smiled. "I was blessed in my life, to have you for a daughter."

She leaned forward and kissed him gently. "I was the lucky one, Dad. Hey, who's surprised that I'm getting married in trousers?"

She felt Wyatt shrug behind her. "Not me."

George laughed and shook his head.

Adora would never remember the words that were said. She would never remember even the ones that she repeated when Kindra prompted her. All she would take with her were the faces of the people in the room as Kindra performed the ceremony. Tama smiled from where she stood beside Lon with her arm draped around Mer.

The swirl of emotions coursed through her as she stood beside her father's death-bed, hand-in-hand with the man she loved as they swore themselves to each other for the rest of their days. Fear, joy, grief, and excitement all made a pass through her as Wyatt slid the ring on her finger, his eyes promising more than any words he could have said. She only hoped he was seeing that, too, as she returned the gesture.

"And may the gods smile over you." Kindra finished with a sad smile. "I can't think of two people who deserve it more."

Slowly and carefully, his arms slid around her and brought her closer. Just before their lips met, he whispered, "I love you."

And that, she would remember most of all. Perhaps she was married in the backroom of a small cabin, but even the finest cathedral in the Outer Zone with thousands of people jammed into it on the brightest summer's day couldn't have held as much love. This was right. This was perfect. And it was something she would always cherish.

Though she hadn't thought it possible, it made her love Wyatt all the more.

As they moved apart, Wyatt and Adora were congratulated by the Viewers and Kindra, who wiped away tears of her own. "One of the most beautiful ceremonies I've had the pleasure of performing."

"Thank you," Adora said warmly before turning to her father. He was smiling contentedly. "Are you happy? Finally got me married off."

"You just take care of your Tin Man. And let him take care of you."

"I will."

George Reed did not live to see the next sunset, but died quietly and comfortably surrounded by the ones that loved him most.


	4. Family

_Why did I bring her this far out here?_

By the light of the full moon, he was able to see the downed tree in Blue's path and had just enough time to lean forward so that the animal could clear the obstacle. The landing wasn't smooth and it jarred his teeth, but Wyatt barely noticed as he spurred the horse on. To his right, the Kisra River churned in the darkness, swollen by the heavy rains that had fallen all night.

He was almost there. He could see the warm light of the windows of the cabin he and Adora had built together after he had accepted the transfer.

Blue's feet slid and the sure-footed horse worked to regain his equilibrium as he rounded the last bend and emerged from the woods. Fear constricted his lungs as he fought to stay in the saddle. _Please let me be in time . . ._

He was on the ground and scrambling up the porch steps before Blue even had a chance to slow down. The latch to the door slipped in his hand as he fought with it and swore viciously.

Adora's eyes were on him immediately, feverishness about her intense gaze. "Did you get it?"

He reached into the pouch that hung from his belt, removing the plant, root and all. Rising from her place beside the fire, Adora hurriedly wiped her hands on her sweat-stained nightgown and took the delicate white flower from him. With shaking hands, she quickly removed the stem and reached for a small paring knife to slice the root.

He watched her work, scared for her, but knowing that he could not step in to stop her. She was driven, as driven as he had been when he had left the house to get the Wood Sage. Adora should be resting, glowing, enjoying this moment.

But things seldom happen as they should.

"How is she?"

"She'll be fine." Adora answered sharply, almost maniacally as she dropped the sliced root in the water. "This will help. Her heart's just a little weak is all. She'll be just fine."

Watching her for a few seconds more, Wyatt backed up towards the small wooden cradle he had made. His sickening worry gave way to grief as he knelt and looked down on the newborn baby girl, so small, and so unnaturally still. With slow, measured movements, he reached down and placed his hand on her chest, leaving it there longer than was necessary to convince himself of the devastating truth. There was no rise and fall as she breathed. No beat of the little heart beneath the soft blanket. She was gone.

It took everything he had not to cry out. Anguish threatened to overflow, but he couldn't, _would not_, let the weakness show in front of Adora. She would need him to be strong.

He pulled the blanket around the infant, tenderly covering her small face as he whispered his regrets and told her how much he loved her. He gave himself a moment before he could face his wife.

Adora still stood near the fire, watching him. She was pale as death from the stress of the birth and the mad scramble to try to save their daughter. Aside from a twitch in her cheek, she didn't move. She just watched him with lifeless eyes as the knife fell from her grasp on to the hard wood floor.

Taking a deep breath, Wyatt stood up and walked to her. "Adora?"

She didn't answer. She didn't even look at him as he put his hands on her shoulders. Her eyes remained on the cradle and the small form that it held. He met with no resistance as he gently guided her back to their bedroom, helped her into a clean nightgown, and laid her down in their bed. There were no angry, fighting words. There was no fight at all. Adora just let him guide her.

Wyatt stood beside her for a few minutes, willing her to say or do something. He wanted her to scream and cry. She could have a few good swings at him if she wanted them. The bruises would be a small price to pay.

His eyes never left her as he sank into the rocking chair beside the bed, trying to forget that it was where Adora had sat, not two weeks earlier, hand on her swollen belly, chatting on merrily about names. He closed his eyes and ordered himself to hold it together.

It took hours, but gradually, Adora's blank stare was interrupted more frequently by her heavy eyelids. The physical and emotional strain was taking its toll. She wouldn't be able to fight it much longer.

Finally, her eyes closed one last time and her breathing grew even and steady. When he was sure that she was asleep, he stood and took a deep breath, preparing himself for a task no father should ever have to undertake- burying his own child.

* * *

He awoke to grittiness in his eyes, his whole body feeling as though he hadn't slept. There was no rest. Only a numbing weariness that manifested itself in the physical, but came from his soul. He was empty and hollow.

And very much alone, he suddenly realized. The quilt from their bed had been draped over him where he still sat in the rocking chair to keep watch over his wife. The bed was now empty. Adora was gone.

Fear sank its claws into his stomach as he jumped up, untangling himself from the cover. Who knew what kind of frame of mind she was in? Cursing himself for his lack of vigilance, he began to search the small cabin. "Adora!"

In the kitchen, he found a pot of coffee brewing on the stove and a fire crackling in the grate, recently tended. Adora was nowhere to be found. Feeling the panic rising, he ran out on to the porch.

And he saw her kneeling beside the mound of freshly turned dirt, facing away from him, towards the river as the gentle breeze stirred her hair.

Slowly, he descended the porch stairs and approached her. She was fully dressed, wearing one of her old work shirts and faded gray skirt she had worn during the early months of her pregnancy. Her head cocked back ever-so-slightly at the sound of his soft footsteps.

She turned back to the little wooden grave marker Wyatt had erected. "I love the name Rachel." It was Adora's voice. Sad and tired, but hers nonetheless. Cain felt a ray of relief shine through the cloud of worry and heartache. "Are you all right?"

Though the role-reversal surprised him, it too lessened his concern for Adora. It was something he had come to expect from her. "I'm worried about you. Why didn't you wake me up?"

She turned to face him fully. He could see the tracks her tears had made down her cheeks. "You were exhausted."

Wyatt knelt down beside her. "You should still be in bed."

"So I can lie there and feel sorry for myself?" She shook her head as her eyes drifted to the grave again. She sighed and turned to look at him again. "Besides, someone has to look after you."

"I think I'm supposed to look out for you, in this particular instance."

"You are." There was a shuddering breath and small smile. "I look out for you, you look out for me. That's how this whole 'family' thing works. And there's nothing more important then family."

Without another word, she leaned forward, letting her head rest on his shoulder. "Thanks for being so strong. I needed that. But it's okay now. I wasn't the only one to lose a child last night."

Her gentle words needled him as he wrapped his arms around her. Her warm tears began to soak through his shirt. It was like a wave breaking on the shore as the emotions he had bottled up hit him. He had no choice but to let them go. He buried his face against her neck as her breath hitched and he let himself cry with her.

* * *

"There's nothing more important then family." DG's eyes cast down and away. "I can't remember who taught me that."

But Cain could. The words took him back in time, when that lesson was taught to him. You took the bad with the good and you came out the better for it. Family was everything.

He knew what DG stood to lose. He had been there. She would do everything in her power to save Azkadellia, even die if that's what it came to, stubborn little thing that she was.

For the briefest of instances, he wondered if his own daughter had lived, would she have been anything like the young woman he saw before him.

DG stuck out her hand, determination and maybe just a little bit of fear coloring her voice. "Good luck, Mr. Cain."

It wasn't good enough. Like it or not, the kid was family. Together, they had taken the bad with the good.

And Cain, at least, had come out the better for it.

He stepped forward, initiating the contact as he drew her close for those damnable hugs she was always passing out. DG didn't seem surprised in the least, returning the embrace easily. Though it was brief, he tried to make her feel safe and loved, keeping the fear of losing her to himself.

When he let her go, he felt the conflicting emotions of pride and dread rising. It choked him and all he could do was nod to send her on her way. DG said nothing and left quickly, as if she knew it was what he needed.

Taking a deep breath, he implored the Fates to see his family through this insane plan. He shook his head when he realized he wasn't just thinking of Jeb and DG, but Zipperhead and the Furball, too.


	5. The Lion's Den

The house was quiet.

Far too quiet.

Adora reined her buckskin mare to a stop and tried to swallow the lump of apprehension in her throat. Word was just beginning to the Territories about the uprising against the Queen Orianah by her own daughter, Princess Azkadellia. Lands to the south and west were already falling to the young woman's control and she was steadily cutting a swath of destruction to the north along with her own personal army which she called Long Coats.

Reason told Adora that it would take a while for the ripples of that cast stone to reach her family, as far out as they were. But reason did little to temper a mother's worry as she gazed down upon her home. There was no smoke from the chimney. Jeb, who should have been out enjoying the sunshine on such a glorious day, was nowhere to be seen. There were no birds singing and even the wind was still.

_The calm before the storm_, she thought as she nudged the mare forward. Reaching under her leather jacket, she rested a hand on the hilt of the revolver she now wore at her side. Originally, she had baulked at the idea of carrying the thing. Handguns always made her nervous. She had argued with Wyatt for days about it. He told her if she was going to roam the countryside, she needed something she could draw fast and use quick. She had managed to hold out until he had looked at her with concern and pleading, simply saying, "Adora, please?"

The mare stopped in front of the cabin and Adora slid down from the saddle, winding the rein around the hitching post before slowly ascending the steps of the porch. Moving to her own front door, Adora eased it open. The hinges squeaked a bit as she slipped through it.

The place was a disaster. Chairs were overturned. Pots and pans were scattered across the hardwood floor. Some of the small toys Wyatt had made for Jeb were spread about and clothes were strewn over the hearth, the legs of the upended chairs, and the small wooden table where the Cain family ate their meals.

Her heart was racing, but her common sense reminded her that the house was small enough for her to know if anyone was hiding in it, preparing to ambush her. Tentatively, she called for her husband. "Wyatt?"

There was a thud and the unmistakable sound of tiny feet padding rapidly across the floor. Three seconds later, four-annual-old Jeb appeared from the back bedroom wearing a white, short-sleeved shirt and dark blue short-pants. His face and clothing were covered in a gooey, purple substance that Adora positively identified as jam. "Momma!"

Adora crouched down and scooped up the child, ignoring the mess and feeling at least a little relieved as she kissed the head of blonde curls. "Hello, my darling. Where's Daddy?"

"Sleeping." Jeb replied proudly.

Adora's breath caught as her mind raced. Sleeping? It was the middle of the day. Was he sick? Hurt? Shot? Dead?

All of these possibilities raced through her mind as she held Jeb tighter and crossed the cabin floor. Bile was rising in her throat as she opened the door to find Wyatt. . .

Sleeping.

Adora bit her lip to not laugh aloud in relief. He was sprawled across the quilt of their bed, fully clothed and his boots still on. There were dark purple stains across his white shirt, very much like the one's Jeb was sporting. Tucked under one arm was Jeb's tattered old teddy bear as Wyatt snored away, obviously exhausted.

_Oh yeah, tough guy_, she thought as she closed the door, _you can handle it_.

It was the first time Adora had left Jeb in Wyatt's care for more than a few hours. Her little expedition into the foothills for Bandy Root had come on the heels of one of Wyatt's week-long excursions into the backcountry after escaped convicts. As usual, he had come back sore, exhausted, and deliriously happy to see his family. Adora had asked several times if he would be up to watching their son for a few days. She knew her sweet, wonderful husband was in for a world of trouble when he had waved a dismissive hand and said, "How much trouble can he be?"

Oh well. She had adopted the 'Let him find out for himself' philosophy to Father Training.

She bounced the child in her arms. "Let's clean up shall we? Let Dad sleep?"

"'kay."

After she washed Jeb's face and changed his clothes, Adora set him to putting away his toys. He gathered his possessions and ran back to his room to put them in the box under his bed. Adora kept an eye on him as she righted the furniture and collected the clothing (Did she want to know what the laundry was doing out here?) When she deposited the clothes in her bedroom she shook her head. Wyatt was now curled up on his side with the bear.

Once the room was put right again, Adora lit a small fire in the wood cook-stove and began to pull together a simple dinner. She had never been a great cook, but with Wyatt gone so much and a son to feed, she had to learn. In no time, the stew was simmering nicely on the range.

Adora was just pulling a pan of cornbread from the oven when she heard stirrings from the bedroom. "Jeb? Jeb!"

The little boy looked up from the toy horses he was playing with as his father burst through the bedroom door, panic on his face, bear in hand. Adora, still near the stove, let the pan smack the top rather forcefully. When he turned around, she raised her eyebrows and pinned her husband with as disapproving look as she could muster.

Wyatt stood very still and smiled nervously. "Hi, Honey."

"Wyatt." She said simply, crossing her arms. She leaned against the counter with an air of expectancy.

Jeb was giggling like mad at the look on his father's face. It was a mixture of relief at finding his son, horror at finding Adora had caught him with his pants down, and this weird, almost charming smile. Jeb only laughed harder when his father ground out. "You little traitor."

Adora understood. The Tin Man was out of his element, just a bit in over his head. But making him squirm had become something of a hobby over the past few years and Adora rather enjoyed it.

He gave an apologetic look as he went over and picked Jeb up off of the floor. "I was going to clean up the mess."

She didn't move.

Wyatt was looking very uncomfortable now. "And boy, would I have liked to cook you dinner."

Still didn't move.

Finally, he relented, hanging his head. "Adora darlin', I am so sorry. I thought I could get him to take a nap if I laid down with him. Next thing I knew . . ."

He trailed off. Jeb reached up and patted Wyatt on the head. "It's okay, Daddy. You tried your best."

Adora was no more good after that. Her façade dropped as she sputtered a giggle.

"Did I?" Wyatt growled as he raised Jeb over his head and gave him a playful, gentle shake. "You gave me the slip, didn't ya?"

Jeb squealed as Wyatt brought him back down and settled his son on his arm again. He looked at Adora, apparently expecting some sort of reprimand. "Well?"

"'Well' what?" She grinned. "You think I haven't lost him before?"

Wyatt blinked at her a few times.

"Look, if he's survived this long with me, a few days with you certainly won't hurt him." Adora reached out and tickled her son's belly, eliciting a squeal from him. "He looks none the worse for wear."

"I have a new found respect for you, darlin'" He kissed her soundly before eyeing up supper finishing over the fire. "How long have you been here?"

Adora shrugged. "A while."

"Why didn't you wake me up?"

"I didn't want to disturb you two." She took the teddy bear from him and handed it to Jeb. "Put this away, please."

As soon as Wyatt set the child on his feet, he scampered away to complete the task.

"You only asked once," There was a look of awe on Wyatt's face, "and he did it. How'd you do that?"

Adora moved forward and put her arms around her husband. "A master never reveals all of her secrets."

* * *

It was rare that the Cain family managed a quiet meal together, what with Wyatt riding over half the Territory most of the time. It didn't help either that Adora had managed to befriend every neighbor in a fifty span radius. She had a talent for healing, which was rare in those parts of the O.Z., whether it be a Viewer, human, or livestock malady. And it never failed; favors were always needed at mealtime.

But for once, the evening was peaceful and Wyatt sent Jeb out into the front yard before turning to Adora as she cleared the table. "I'll do that in a bit. Come sit on the porch for a few minutes."

It was hard to resist him when he used that tone, but Adora sensed something underneath. While she was sure her husband was asking just for the pleasure of her company, there was something else that made her stomach a little queasy. That feeling of apprehension again.

She took his hand and together they made their way to the swing and sat. Adora leaned against him as he rocked back on his heels, gently pushing them back and forth as the sky went from orange and yellow to red and purple. In the yard, Jeb chased after fireflies in the deepening twilight.

Finally, she sighed. "So what is it?"

"What's what?"

"Just come out with it." Adora admonished. "I haven't got the energy to needle you for information."

He chuckled a bit. Giving in. "Bill stopped by."

"Bill?" Adora had to think a moment before the name rang a bell. "Bill Massey. Your friend from the academy."

"Yeah." There was look on Wyatt's face as the nostalgia took hold. He had regaled Adora with one or two stories from the academy and most of the wilder tales started with _Bill and I. . ._

"I thought he was stationed down around Quaddling Country."

"He was." Wyatt looked down at her. "Until Azkadellia took over."

Shock rippled through her. "Where is Queen Orianah? There has to be more she can do."

"Bill said according to rumors, she's holed up in Finaqua. So far, she's managed to hold Central City, but there's a lot of talk that she's too weak to protect the north and east much longer."

"She just, always seemed so strong." Adora thought back to the pictures of the matriarch in her school books. "Something's not right. I can't believe the House of Gayle would turn like that."

"I'm afraid it has." Wyatt replied. "Orianah's been steadily losing strength since her youngest daughter died. And Azkadellia's only been getting stronger."

"But she's just a child."

"She's evil." Wyatt said. "That's all there is to it."

Adora was quiet for a beat. "How bad is it?"

"Bad enough." Wyatt confessed. "She's got half the army turned to her side now. And anyone who resists. . . let's just say she deals with them decisively."

She hated herself for asking this question. "What about the Tin Men?"

His head fell back as he contemplated the roof of the porch. "Azkadellia is trying to force them to surrender and pledge loyalty to her. But you know Tin Men."

"Yeah, I know Tin Men." Adora looked up to see the pain in his eyes. "Tell me."

"Higgins is dead. He got transferred to Totten not long after we left Grafton. He led some men against a battalion of Long Coats. They were all killed."

She had never gotten along with the Captain, but she understood how her husband felt. Tin Men weren't just cops. They weren't soldiers. It was a loyal Order, comprised of men and women devoted not only to the protection of the House of Gayle, but also to each other. Wyatt felt the deaths of those men as closely as if they were blood relations.

"Bill was welcome to stay, you know." Adora reached up to play with the short blonde hair at the nape of his neck. "I would have liked to have met him."

"I know. But the people he was travelling with were anxious to get up north. He didn't have a lot of time." He took a deep breath. "And he told me something else."

She couldn't help but half-smile. This is where the other boot was gonna drop. "What?"

"There's a resistance movement against Azkadellia starting in Central City."

"A resistance?" Adora repeated. "But the Queen is still in power. Isn't she?"

"It's just a matter of time, darlin'" Wyatt was looking her square in the eyes. "Generals are defecting left and right. Azkadellia takes more power for herself everyday. There's no escaping it."

Taking a deep, shaky breath, Adora looked out into the warm night. Suddenly, everything she cared about; her home, her son, her husband, and the life they had made for themselves seemed to hanging by the barest of threads. Everything seemed so much more fragile then it had just a moment before. "Who's leading this resistance?"

There was pause. "The Mystic Man."

"That charlatan?" Adora said loudly enough for Jeb to look up from his bug-hunting. She waited for him to go back to playing before she spoke again. "You're kidding, right?"

"It's a good plan."

"Does it involve pulling rabbits out of hats?"

He smiled at her rancor. "This coming from a person that could be described as a 'country witch' with all of your potions and teas and junk."

"So help me, the next time you come in here with a case of Lilliroot Itch, I'm going to let you suffer for a week."

"Good. Because that gunk that you rubbed all over me last time smelled like pig manure."

"Maybe it was pig manure."

He was laughing now. "Do you want to hear the rest of this?"

She didn't really. There was that flip in her stomach again, as if this conversation was going to change the course of her life. "Yes."

"The Mystic Man is becoming somewhat of a sensation in the past few years." Adora couldn't hold back her snort of disgust. "It's caused the Queen to consider assigning a detail of Tin Men to act as his guards since he has contributed so much to the kingdom.

"Seems like a waste, if you ask me."

"Can I finish, please?" Wyatt asked, not unkindly. "The Mystic Man has been given the chance to select his own detail, but what he's really looking for is a few men willing to use the position as a cover and strike at Azkadellia's campaign on a smaller scale. Intercepting correspondences, supply lines, taking out key figures in her army."

"Sounds like suicide to me." Adora felt uneasiness wash over her. "And you want to apply for the job?"

He was quiet for a few seconds, thinking carefully before he spoke. "If we don't do anything, it's going to be helluva lot easier for Azkadellia to win. Someone has to do it. If not me, then who?"

There was a part of Adora that wanted to stand up and tell him exactly who else. Anyone else. Not him. They were so far from all of it. In the middle of paradise. How could anything evil ever touch them here? Why did he have to run right into the lion's den?

And the other, stronger part of her answered the questions easily. Evil would come. It would steal this beauty, this life, away from them if they let it. And why did he have to fight? Because that was who he was. She had known that when she married him. He was a Tin Man, and part of the package was that undying loyalty to the people he was sworn to protect.

He was studying her, trying to gage her reaction. Finally, she smiled. "I have a hard time seeing us living in Central City."

"Us? There's no us." Wyatt replied sternly. "You and Jeb are staying right here."

"I think not." Adora replied acidly. "If you think for one minute-"

"It's too dangerous!"

"You just stop right there, Wyatt Cain." Adora seethed, practically daring him to interrupt her again. "You are not leaving me behind!"

"Adora-"

"No." She noticed Jeb staring at them again and dropped her voice. "Look, if what you're saying is as bad as it sounds then we are all standing on a knife's edge here. I won't have this family ripped apart if I can help it."

"Darlin'," He reached out and touched her face, suddenly looking very tired. "It would just make my job a lot easier if I knew you were safe."

"Oh, you mean out here in the middle of nowhere with the wild animals and the criminals you're always chasing? Sounds like a wonderful place for a woman to raise her young son all by herself."

He gave her a mock-disgusted look. "I pity the creature or convict that crosses your path, lady."

She had him dead to rights. "So we're agreed that I can take care of myself and our son and now we're just discussing geography."

"Hang on-"

"That settles it. When do we leave?"

"You are the most stubborn, infuriating woman that I have ever met." It was said with exasperation, but with no real heat.

"It's a little late to be figuring those things out." She smiled.

Wyatt sat up and turned towards her, taking her face gently in his hands. "Sweetheart, in this neck of the woods, I have no doubt that you're plenty capable. But Central City is a jungle the likes of which you have never seen."

That was true. She'd have to concede on that one, but she couldn't let him go. "I can't let you leave me here. I won't."

He hugged her, running his hands softly up her back. "I'm sorry, darlin'"

"What about-" she was struggling with her emotions as she pulled back. "What about something closer? Something to the north of Central City, maybe a one or two day's ride away?"

He was going to argue again, she could see it. She beat him to it. "Meet me in the middle here, please?"

He sighed before taking the hand that had rested on his shoulder and kissing it, his lips lingering over the back of her hand. "All right, darlin'."


End file.
